


i hate my life

by marsdood



Category: Original Work
Genre: Mommy Issues, Other, i have
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:29:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24145162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marsdood/pseuds/marsdood
Summary: i have mommy issues and mom if youre reading this, sorry not sorry
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	i hate my life

I hate her.  
I hate her so fucking much. But am I allowed to say that? Because she’s still my mother. So, am I allowed to say that? Will she come at me with a belt again? Will she say that she loves me while she’s doing, or will she make me hurt someone else to prove a point. Will she say that its for my own good. Will she scream at me when I stand my ground? Will she destroy everything I love because I freedom to write what I want. Will she hit, will she scream, will she cause more pain than she already caused in the 14 years. I can’t help but play the same scenarios in my head, even when I don’t want to. The screaming, the hitting, the breaking its always so fucking loud. A voice in the back of my head just screams its your goddamn fault, and I believe it. God I’m such a piece of shit. But she hurt me so much, does she feel guilty?  
I hate her.  
What kind of mother does that to someone she “loves”? Oh god. Does she really love me then? There’s no reasoning behind it, I’m not even a fucking parent and I know that’s not how you parent. Fuck, years of my life wanting and yearning for her love. And she says she loves me, but I know it isn’t true. I’m scared to get close to people, because if she made me abuse a dog then what the fuck is, she gonna do to a person? Years and years of trust being fucking shattered again and again. She doesn’t love us, but how am I supposed to tell that to my little sister? I know she’s going to be coming to me for answers on why she feels like shit. On why mommy dearest doesn’t love her. Why the rectangular bruises on her lower back, thighs and legs layer in a certain way. I wish I had the answer.  
I hate her.  
That dull but angry sigh always strikes a deep chord in me. I don’t know what it was. maybe the fact that she would start yelling after it sometimes. Maybe it was after she hit me. Or maybe it was while flipping through my sketchbook destroying everything that I cared about. Rip. Rip. Rip. She often destroyed things. She did it like it was her goddamn job. She did it like I deserved it. Like I hadn’t heard it from her. I was a fucking child. She once said that “you can start cussing when you earn it.” I think she was referring to her abuse. It was way more severe than mine, but she was also the person that told me that I’m not supposed to compare myself to others. Bullshit.  
I hate her  
I got my courage from her. That’s the only thing that I love about myself that isn’t an aspect of her. I’ve never been a fan of my dark brown eyes or hair. But she just had to carry on the depression and anxiety and then dismiss it. I flat-out say I need therapy even my older sister talks to her about it and she doesn’t even give a shit. It’s come to the point where I can’t tell if she doesn’t give a shit or she’s just gullible. I’m watching the sun come up because I’ve been typing so much that my fingers are sore. Just to complete some bullshit assignment for some bullshit teacher in this bullshit school. And this bitch has the audacity to make me have to prove it to my dad because doesn’t believe me  
I HATE HER


End file.
